To Step Across the Line
by craftyjhawk
Summary: He drew the line and said they couldn't cross it. But, what if they did? A birthday fic for dgschneider. Series of one-shots.
1. Overdrive

Tag for The Verdict in the Story

_Many of you might know that my birthday was last month. You probably know that because my wonderful friend, dgschneider, wrote me the birthday fic to top all other birthday fics - Seven Days: An Experiment in Making Love. (If you haven't read it, you really should!) Well, today is her birthday and I am so happy to be able to write a fic for her. It doesn't come close to what she did for me, but I think it's what she wanted, which was a look at what would have happened if Booth and Brennan had stepped over that line instead of backing away from it. This is the result, or at least part of it. More on that later._

_To dgschneider - happy birthday, my dear friend. I hope it's a wonderful one and I hope this story makes you smile._

* * *

_Booth - Bones, just take the brain, okay, and put it in neutral. Take the heart and pop in into overdrive._

* * *

_Booth - That's a lot of heart, Bones._

* * *

"Booth, I'm sorry." She wouldn't look at him as she ran her finger around the rim of her wineglass. "I'm sorry that I put you in that position."

"Bones, hey, look at me." He reached out and stilled her hand, waiting for her eyes to meet his. "I understand. You do things for family. You didn't do anything wrong. You didn't perjure yourself. I didn't perjure myself. You just told an alternate story. It was up to the jury to accept it or not."

They had gathered with their friends at Founding Fathers to celebrate Max's not guilty verdict. After several rounds of drinks and toasts, the party had broken up and everyone had gone their separate ways. That is everyone except the partners, who had relocated to a table in a quiet corner of the bar.

Booth could sense her vulnerability. She thought she had fooled everyone, but he had noticed the way she nursed the same glass of wine all night and that her smiles never quite reached her eyes. As happy as she was that her father would not be going to prison, she was waging a war with herself, trying to gain control of her emotions. From where he sat, it was a losing battle.

"I know it's wrong. If my father is guilty, he should be in prison. I just… I just couldn't lose him again. I feel like I just got him back." She turned her head as she tried to blink away the tears gathering in her blue eyes, but one or two escaped to run down her cheeks. He gently turned her face back toward him and wiped her tears with his thumbs. Crooking his finger under her chin to keep her gaze anchored on him, he waited for her to continue.

"I took your advice, Booth. I put my brain in neutral and my heart in overdrive. Now, I find that I don't know how to reverse the process. I don't like being this emotional."

Booth pulled some cash out of his wallet and tossed it on the table. Taking her hand, wrapping it in his own, he pulled her from her seat and led her out of the bar.

"Let's go for a walk, okay, Bones?" At her nod, he put his arm around her shoulders and led her down the block with no destination in mind.

Booth was content to just be with her while her emotional storm raged within. He knew that when she was ready, she would talk to him. When they reached the small neighborhood park and garden, he led them to a wooden bench which sat beneath a huge weeping willow tree, within the circle of its low hanging branches. He parted the branches with one arm, allowing her to walk through before following her. Those same branches gave the illusion of privacy once they were seated.

He reclaimed possession of her hand. She still wasn't talking, so he tried to draw her out. "Maybe it will help if you talk about it. You know, talk through those emotions you're feeling. Maybe if you acknowledge them, it will be easier to shove them back in their little boxes. Metaphorically speaking."

"I don't like psychology." She couldn't stop her kneejerk reaction to the mention of discussing her feelings. The sideways glance she shot him was full of doubt. She couldn't foresee an occasion when discussing her emotions would be beneficial. However, she knew Booth better than she knew anyone else. She knew he wouldn't let this go until he felt that he had helped her in some way.

"I know you don't, Bones, but, it might help. You won't know until you try." He gave her hand a squeeze, making sure he had her full attention. "Look, it's just you and me here. No one is around, especially not Sweets. You can stop at any time."

She took a deep breath and blew it out through her mouth. "Fine. But, I don't know where to start."

Flashing his smile, he scooted a little closer to her. He knew this was something he could help with. "Why don't you tell me how you feel about Max?"

"I'm happy that he isn't going to prison. I'm happy that he is in DC, although I'm worried that he could leave at any moment. It could be another fifteen years before I see him again, especially if he is forced to go on the run again." She knew that the probability was high that Max would commit another crime in the name of protecting her. That left an uncertainty to their relationship. She felt he could be gone at any time.

"That's good, Bones. Anything else about him?"

Brennan found that once she had opened the floodgates on her emotions, there was no holding them back. She wanted to get up and pace, but Booth kept her anchored to the bench by her hand. "I'm mad! If he hadn't killed Kirby, none of this would have happened. I wouldn't have been faced with the possibility of him going to prison or worse. I wouldn't have felt it necessary to try to prevent that. I feel guilty. I didn't overtly lie, but I did mislead the jury."

"Look, you gave the jury an alternate scenario. They had to decide whether or not it created doubt regarding Max. You know, if he hadn't killed Kirby, he might not have been in DC long enough for you to spend time with him. You might not have had the chance to try to build a relationship with him."

"Perhaps, but I don't like being less than honest. Just like I know you are always honest." She turned toward him with sorrowful eyes. She knew what she had asked of him when he was testifying. "I know you didn't lie, but you were forced to admit that there was a possibility that I could have killed Kirby. I know it's your instinct to protect me and that went against it. It hurt you to do that. I'm sorry, Booth."

"Aw, Bones, come here." He let go of her hand to wrap her in a two-armed hug. She laid her head on his shoulder as he continued. "I know why you did it and I understand. You don't need to apologize because there's nothing to forgive. But, I didn't do it just because we're partners."

"I know. You were under oath and you had to tell the truth."

"That's not it. It's because I care about you and I know how much it would have hurt you for your father to go to prison."

She pulled away and he could see that she was once again fighting back tears. He kept an arm around her and rubbed her back while she once again fought for control.

"Any other emotions going on in there? Anything else you want to talk about?"

She bit her lip and turned her head away, obviously avoiding his gaze. He knew there was something else, but wasn't sure how to get her to tell him.

Deciding that patience was the name of the game, he sat back on the bench, pulling her with him. With her head on his shoulder, he leaned his head against hers as they sat and listened to the noises of the city at night. Distant sirens and loud music began to fade into the background. Brennan was lost in her thoughts while Booth was lost in her – the sound of her breathing, the scent of her shampoo, the silkiness of her hair against his cheek. He could almost hear her internal monologue a she wrestled with just how much she should reveal to him. Rushing her to reach a conclusion would solve nothing, so he waited while she wrestled and he reveled in the rightness of having her so close. He hoped that this wouldn't be the last time he'd hold her like this. He knew she was dealing with something big. He hoped it wouldn't send her running away from him again, either physically or emotionally. It wouldn't be the first time if it did.

Temperance Brennan never backed down from a problem or a fight. She stood, head held high, defenses in place, ready to face down whatever came at her. But, this wasn't a problem and it wasn't a fight. It was her feelings for her partner that she had to face and that scared her more than almost anything she could think of. She couldn't face those feelings and him at the same time, so she kept her head on his shoulder as she began to open up to him once more.

"Booth, you know that I care about you as more than a partner, right?" She almost sounded hesitant. "You're my best friend, well, you and Angela, but in different ways."

"Thanks, Bones. You're my best friend, too." She could feel his smile against her hair.

"Being my best friend doesn't explain what I'm feeling about you, though. I recognize that the release of dopamine, norepinephrine, serotonin, oxytocin and vasopressin in my brain explains this feeling, but what if it's something more?"

He sensed that she was trying to rationalize something that wasn't rational. "Uh, Bones, you want to say that in English for me? That's enough of the squint-speak. What's going on in that head of yours?"

"I don't think it's my head, Booth. I think it's my heart." She whispered as if saying it too loudly would confirm her fears.

Booth felt like the air had been sucked out of their hideaway under the willow at the mention of her feelings for him in connection with her heart. He had known since that first tequila-tinged kiss outside a seedy pool hall that there could be something real between the two of them. He was ready at that moment to give it a chance, to see what it could be. But, she didn't take risks or chances with her emotional well-being, her physical well-being – sure. He had seen her run headlong into an abandoned warehouse, leaving the gun, otherwise known as him, in the dust and sprinting to catch up, to protect her. In this instance however, he was way ahead of her. He had known for so long how he felt about her and he had been patiently (or not so patiently) waiting for her to catch up.

"What do you mean, Bones?" He hoped he knew, but he wasn't about to put words in her mouth. If she wanted to talk about **this**, she was going to have to say the words, or at least meet him halfway. It wasn't time for him to guess based on his feelings and hopes.

"I've been attracted to you since you walked in to that lecture hall at American University. That attraction hasn't lessened, it's only grown stronger." She knew that was the easy part to admit to. Attraction was easy to deal with – you either gave into it or, in their case, you ignored it and went on with your life. Admitting that she felt more than attraction was the hard part. Admitting that what she felt went beyond chemicals seemed impossible.

"I've felt the same, since the first time I saw you. It hasn't changed in nearly four years." His heart began to pound as it seemed like his wildest dreams might be close to coming true.

His admission gave her the courage to continue. "Beyond attraction, I also feel an attachment to you. I trust you, rely on you, worry about you. I miss you when we're apart. I'm happy when you call or you come to see me. My heart beats faster when I look at you and find you're already looking at me. I can't imagine a time when I won't want you to be part of my life."

"If you were to put a name to those feelings, what would it be?"

"I don't know. It's so confusing."

"Temperance, look at me." He waited long enough to think she wouldn't turn toward him until, finally, she did. "I think you know. What name would you put to these feelings?"

"But, it can't be **that**." She couldn't believe that it might be true. "Love is just a set of chemical reactions in our brain. With time, it fades. That's what I believe. What I feel for you, however, hasn't faded. It's only gotten stronger."

"So, are you trying to tell me that you're in love with me?" He was dying to rub her back or pull her into his arms, but he sat very still, not wanting to break the spell that they seemed to be under beneath that willow tree.

"That's the only conclusion I can reach. I think I'm in love with you and it scares me." Her voice waivered and her eyes filled with tears, but she had done the impossible – admitted her feelings for him. Her fears grew exponentially while she waited for him to say something, anything.

He smiled at her in the way only he could. "It's okay to be afraid, but you don't need to be. One thing you don't have to wonder about or be afraid of is how I feel about you." He caressed her cheek, before his hand reached around to tangle in her hair. "Temperance Brennan, I'm in love with you. I have been for so long that I'm not sure when it happened. I believe we could have something wonderful, if you are willing to try."

She only had to look in his to see he was telling the truth. She saw love and desire in those warm eyes, giving her the courage to answer the only way she could, with a nod, because her throat was tight with emotion.

He leaned into her until his lips just brushed hers. That light kiss gave way to a deeper one that lasted until their need for air overruled all other needs.

With their foreheads touching, eyes locked on each other while they caught their breath, he had one more question for her.

"If I ask you out on a date, will you say yes?"

* * *

_A/N - There are so many times that B&B came close to crossing that line. I couldn't pick just one. Check back tomorrow to see another time when we were all screaming at the TV in vain and how I try to fix it._

_Thanks for reading! If you are on twitter, take a minute to wish my friend a happy birthday. Her handle is _dg_schneider_. ~ craftyjhawk_


	2. Attagirl

Tag for Harbingers in a Fountain

_My friend, dgschneider's birthday continues! As promised, here is another time when they came so close to crossing that line. I hope you enjoy it!_

* * *

_Booth - I love you, in an 'attagirl, professional kind of way._

* * *

_Avalon - By the way, my cards tell me this all works out, eventually._

* * *

"Booth, what did she mean that this all works out eventually? What is she talking about?"

Brennan followed Booth into his office pelting him with questions, which he chose to ignore. Instead, he tried to focus Brennan's attention in a different direction.

"Hey, come on, everyone is waiting for us at Founding Fathers for our after-case drink." Booth shut down his computer and retrieved his weapon from his desk drawer and clipped the holster on. "Let's go! I want to go celebrate my first case back."

With his hand on **his** spot on her back, he led her from his office and toward the elevators in such a whirlwind that she lost her train of thought. Before she'd had time to catch her breath, they were walking across the parking garage to Booth's SUV.

The partners were quiet on the longer-than-usual drive to Founding Fathers. Traffic might have stopped in its tracks, but Booth's thoughts hadn't. He couldn't get past his 'declaration' earlier that night. He had choked, there was no way around it. He told Brennan that he loved her, then heard the voices of Cam and Sweets, telling him to be careful, be sure. They had planted the seed of doubt about his feelings and he backed away from his bold statement, adding "in an 'attagirl, professional kind of way." She tried to cover her disappointment when he added that qualifier by playing along with him. She might have given him an 'attaboy punch to the shoulder, but he had seen the look as it crossed her face. It was that look that haunted him now. Had he missed his chance?

Traffic finally began to move, but not before Angela had called to see if they were coming. It was getting late and the rest of the team was ready to go home. Brennan told her that everyone should go, they'd have drinks another night.

"Hey, Bones, do you just want to go back to my place and have a drink? I mean, since we're not meeting the team now, there's no reason to go to the bar, right?"

"That sounds good. We haven't had a chance to really talk since I got back from Guatemala."

"Yeah, that's what I was thinking, a chance to catch up."

When traffic started moving, Booth changed direction and headed toward his apartment. Again, they rode in silence. He thought about Sweets's insistence that he wasn't in love with Brennan before his coma dream. Sweets had no clue. How could he say that brain scans could prove whether or not he was in love? Sweets probably thought he was helping, but he needed to stay out of it.

Booth didn't know when he had fallen in love with Brennan. Maybe, it was when he had gotten the call from New Orleans after she had been attacked and lost a whole day. Would he have gone flying off to help her if they were really just partners? Or perhaps, it was when she and Hodgins were buried alive. He had never been more scared than when their time ran out and he still didn't know where to find them. Would he have been that afraid for someone he didn't love? Maybe it was one of the many times she had saved him or he had saved her. That seemed to be an unending list, but they were always there for each other. It didn't matter when **it** had happened, because he knew it was true. He loved her, of that he was certain. He had to tell her, because holding it in, hiding it from her was just too hard. He couldn't do it anymore now that he had finally admitted it to himself.

He pulled into his usual parking space at his apartment and realized that they had barely spoken the whole time they had been in the truck. He knew where his thoughts had been, but he wondered what was on her mind. She was probably thinking about the dig in Guatemala or maybe some ancient remains that she planned to identify the following day. She opened her door and moved to get out, startling him into action. He hopped out and ran around to her side of the truck.

Walking into his building, he wondered when it had become automatic for his hand to find the small of her back. It was interesting that she had always allowed it. It was so unlike her. He realized that she allowed him to do many things that she would never permit anyone else to do. How many times had he seen her take a man down for daring to touch her? He'd lost count. However, he had always had her unspoken permission - a hand on her back, an arm around her shoulders – she allowed it.

Unlocking his door, he motioned for her to lead the way. After locking the door behind him, he secured his weapon in his safe and followed her into his living room.

"What's it going to be, Bones? Beer or something stronger?" He slipped out of his shoes, took of his jacket and tie and tossed them on a chair.

"Whatever you're having is fine." She made herself comfortable, kicking off her shoes, curling up on the couch with her legs tucked under her.

He decided that he needed more liquid courage that beer would provide, so he grabbed a bottle of Scotch and two glasses. He flopped on the couch next to her, placed the glasses on the coffee table and poured them each a drink. He handed a glass to her and clinked his against it.

"Welcome home, Bones." He knocked his drink back in one gulp and slammed his glass on the coffee table. He saw the she was sipping her drink and thought that if she knew what was coming, she'd be throwing hers down like he had.

"Bones, I have a confession." He watched as her eyes widened, not knowing what to expect.

"Oh, okay. What is it?" She looked and sounded apprehensive. She wasn't used to Booth making confessions to her. He was usually so straightforward with her.

He took a deep breath and decided that he needed another drink to say what need to be said. Grabbing the bottle, he poured himself another finger, then slammed the bottle, the drink and the glass.

"Before, when I said I love you…"

"Right, in an 'attagirl way."

"Bones, I just want you to listen, okay? If I don't say this now, I might not ever say it." He rubbed his hands over his face as he gathered his thoughts and his courage. It was now or never. He took her drink from her hand and placed it on the coffee table. Taking her hands in his, he made sure he had her full attention.

"I love you, Temperance, and not just in an attagirl way." The terror that he expected to see in her eyes wasn't there. Instead he saw… well, he wasn't sure what he saw there. She hadn't taken off at the first mention of the 'L' word which encouraged him to continue. "I've loved you for so long that I'm not even sure when it happened. After the scare with my tumor, I can't deny it any longer. I needed you to know. I know how you feel about love and I'm not asking you for anything more than you can give. I'm just asking you to think about us, about how you feel about us, about me and whether or not you think this could go somewhere."

He finally took a breath and wait for her to say something. Anything. He should have known better than to expect an immediate response. Well, he did know better, but that didn't stop him from hoping, did it? He realized that instead of the thoughtful, even far-off look that he was expecting, she was still meeting his eyes. Her gorgeous blue eyes were bright with… tears? Had he just ruined everything? Was she going to break his heart and take off? This is why he should have kept his mouth shut and kept on doing what they had always done – dancing around their attraction and settling for second best. He would never forgive himself if she –

"Booth!" She was staring at him expectantly, like she was waiting on him to say something.

"I'm sorry, Bones, did you say something?" He gave her a sheepish grin.

As she nodded, a tear rolled down her cheek. "Do you love me or the version of me that was in your dream?"

"Oh, Bones," he wiped away her tear with his thumb before caressing her cheek, "I love you – the scientist, author, FBI consultant, best friend, generous, loving person that you are. I loved you long before I had that dream and I'll love you long after it's faded from my memory."

He sat stunned as she turned her face to kiss the palm of his hand. With tears running down her cheeks, she smiled at him.

"The book that I wrote during your coma, it helped me to realize that I'm in love with you. That's why I went to Guatemala. I wasn't ready to deal with those feelings. I'm sorry that I ran away from you, from us, but that time away helped me. It gave me time to process my feelings. It gave me perspective."

Booth felt like his heart was going to explode. He heard her say that she loved him, right? He waited to see if she would say it again, because it seemed too good to be true. He couldn't quite trust it yet.

"Booth, I know what I feel for you is love. And while I've never been good a relationships, I think that would be different with you."

He was stunned. She had just offered him everything he had ever hoped for and more. Pulling her into his arms, he kissed her. If he had thought that their tequila or mistletoe kisses were the real thing, he was wrong. They paled in comparison to this kiss. Kissing the woman that he loved and who he now knew loved him in return was so much more.

"So, does that mean we are doing this? You and me? A relationship?"

She chuckled at how hopeful he sounded. "Yes, I think we are."

He didn't know whether he wanted to shout it from the mountaintops or barricade them in his apartment for the next week. For now, he was content to hold her in his arms, kiss her as much as he wanted and imagine the future they would have together. After everything they had been through to get to this point, it was enough.

* * *

_A/N - Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed it. This is the second and last official part of dgschneider's birthday fic, HOWEVER, there are many other times when they got oh-so-close and backed away. As I have the time and inspiration, I'll be adding to this. Please consider following this story so that you don't miss those updates._

_Reviews are great and they feed the muse. You know what to do. Thanks! ~ craftyjhawk_


	3. No Regrets

_Tag for 6x09 - The Doctor in the Photo_

* * *

All I want to do is get away from him, out of his SUV and into my apartment. I can keep myself together for that long. I have to. Fighting to control my tears, I face the side window, avoiding his constant glances in my direction. The streetlights we pass create a strobe effect, mesmerizing me, allowing me to escape the awkwardness that my confession has created. When he pulls up in front of my apartment building, I don't give him time to put the truck into park. I throw open the door, jump out and run into the building before he can stop me.

By the time I reach my apartment door, my vision is impaired by the tears once again streaming down my cheeks. I struggle to fit my key in the lock and begin to panic because it's taking too long, afraid that he has followed me. Finally! The key slips into the lock and in an instant, I'm locking the door behind me.

Too exhausted to move, I slide down the door until I'm sitting on the hardwood floor. I bury my head in my hands and cry, reliving the conversation in his truck over and over again. It isn't possible for a heart to break, but the pain radiating from my chest would say otherwise. This must be what it feels like to be heartbroken. I doubt that it will ever heal.

I'm also angry. Angry with myself for opening up to Booth. I should have kept my regrets to myself. I'm angry at Lauren Eames for shining a spotlight on my lonely life, making me doubt myself. And I'm so angry with Booth. He went from wanting thirty or forty or fifty years to moving on at what seems like the speed of light. Yes, I turned him down, but didn't he know I can't make snap decisions like that?

* * *

Stunned. There is no other word for it. I was stunned. Stunned by her admission. Stunned by the way she fled, yes, fled from my truck, leaving the door standing wide open. But, mostly stunned by how much she had changed when I wasn't looking. I know how much it cost her to open up like that. All I could do was tell her how much I love Hannah, how she's not a consolation prize. All I could do was watch as her heart broke.

"_My whole world turned upside down. I can adjust." _

"_I did."_

"_Yes, you did."_

As I drive around, avoiding my apartment and Hannah, those three words, "Yes, you did," sound like an indictment, festering like an open wound. "Yes, you did." I hadn't done anything wrong. When she turned me down, I told her I had to move on. "Yes, you did." I found Hannah and did just that, moved on. "Yes, you did." Why do I feel so guilty? I didn't do anything wrong. "Yes, you did."

Yes, I did. I pushed Bones when I knew better. I should have given her time to analyze or weigh the pros and cons or whatever it was that she needed to do. I shouldn't have said that I would move on five seconds after she turned me down. I should have had more faith in us.

As I drive around DC, my thoughts feel as though they are on a carousel, round and round, in an endless loop. I keep coming to the same conclusion. It's time for me to grab the brass ring and get off the damn carousel. It's time for me to correct the mistakes I've made so that I can move forward.

For the first time in hours, I look at my surroundings, wondering where I've ended up during my unintentional meandering. I'm very well acquainted with this city, but even I can get lost. Firing up the GPS, I touch the 'Home' icon on the screen and follow the verbal commands.

* * *

I wake up to knocking on my door. My head is pounding, eyes almost swollen shut. After checking my watch, I realize that I have been sleeping against the door for hours. The knocking becomes pounding and echoes in my head, but still I don't answer. In no mood to face anyone, I hope that whoever it is will give up and go away. I could get up and go to bed, but the effort that would require is more than I am capable of at the moment. So, I sit in silence, unmoving, against my door and wait.

"Bones, it's me."

The pounding has stopped, but it's Booth. He's not going to give up or go away. Even so, I remain still, hoping that he will think I'm not at home. The apartment is dark, the only light coming from a streetlight, filtering through the blinds.

"Bones, we need to talk. Please let me in."

I just want to scream at him to go away, leave me alone, go home to Hannah.

"I know you're in there. Bones, we need to talk. Please, let me in. Just hear me out and then, if you want me to leave, I will."

His voice is pleading and he sounds so sincere. I can't face him, though, no matter how much he pulls at my heartstrings. I need time to compartmentalize, to force my feelings back into the box they came out of. I'm trying, I've been trying since I returned from Maluku. I have discovered that the problem with letting emotions out is that they outgrow the space allotted them.

* * *

I know she is home. Her car is still parked in its space. I watched her windows when I dropped her off and her lights never came on. I can picture her sitting in the dark, maybe drinking a glass of wine, closing herself off again. She is not going to open the door. She will shut me out until she's re-erected the walls around her heart. I could use my key, let myself in, but I won't. It has to be her choice to let me in.

"I know you can hear me, Temperance. If you won't let me in, then I guess I'll just have to say what I need to from here."

I give her another minute or two to open the door, hoping that I won't have to do this standing in the hallway where her neighbors can hear. When the door doesn't open, I have no choice but to go on.

"Bones, I came to say what I should have said that night."

Neither of us needs me to explain which night. It's been a year and that night hasn't left me. I doubt it's left her, either.

I'm emotionally and physically exhausted as the stress of the night catches up to me. Resigned to a heartfelt discussion with her door, I slide down, sitting with my legs stretched across the hall and my head resting against the solid oak.

"I didn't say the one thing that I should have said. Maybe it would have made a difference. Maybe it wouldn't have. Either way, I should have said it. I love you, Temperance, just the way you are. I would never ask you to change."

I pause, willing her to open the door. I need to be able to see her, to read her, to know if I'm reaching her or if she's already too closed off. Nothing but silence comes from inside her apartment. I have to believe that she is listening, so I continue.

"I need to ask you a question. But before you answer, I want you to know that Hannah and I are done. Your answer won't change that. I've called Ange. I'm going to crash there tonight. Hannah will be gone tomorrow. For now I need to know, do you love me?"

I wait for an answer, a sign, anything at all. Still nothing from her, which changes nothing for me. She needs to hear this just as much as I need to say it.

"Because I thought about what you said tonight. I don't want any regrets, either. If Hannah and I are together, I'll have at least two - staying with her when she is not the person that I love completely, with my whole heart, and not being with you. That would be my biggest regret. I know I've hurt you, I've probably lost your trust. I need to earn that back and it will take some time. I know we can't just pick up like nothing has happened."

I turn toward the door, wishing I could touch her. Instead, I place my hand on it, imagining her on the other side, listening to me.

"But if you love me, if you don't want any regrets, if you want us to be together, then just know that's what I want too."

I scramble to my feet as I hear movement on the other side of the door. Holding my breath, I wait. Whether I'm waiting for the door to open or for the sound of her steps retreating toward her bedroom, I'm not sure. I just know that I'm not moving until she does, not until I have some kind of answer.

* * *

Brushing the tears from my cheeks, I realize that we want the same thing, a life together. It won't be easy. It might hurt at times. But it couldn't possibly be more painful that what I've been feeling.

After hours on the floor, my body is stiff as I slowly try to stand. I worry that he will leave before I can get to him. My hands fumble with the lock in my rush to open the door. Throwing it open, I hope that I'm not too late. I breathe a sigh of relief when I see that he is still standing there. Watching as he steps through the door and closes it behind him, I fall into his open arms. I wrap myself around him, knowing that I'm finally where I belong.

"I love you," I whisper against his chest, not knowing if he can hear me. And again, a little louder, "I love you, too, Booth. I don't want any regrets. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, however long that might be."

My words have barely settled in the air when I feel his hands tangle in my hair. With a fierceness I have never felt from him, he brings his lips to mine, expressing everything that his words can't. The words will come later as we learn how to be together.

But for now, it's enough.

* * *

_A/N - I'd love to know what you thought about this little 'fix.' Please, leave a review in the little box below. As always, thanks for reading! ~ craftyjhawk_

_One more thing - dgschneider just posted a fantastic story - "Paper Wishes and Falling Snow" - you really NEED to to read it. You'll thank me. :)_


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